


Stiles's Lucky Wolf Charm

by stilesinwonderland (itsabravenewworld)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Wolf Derek, Wolf Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 04:16:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10983180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsabravenewworld/pseuds/stilesinwonderland
Summary: Stiles's policy is that if something lucky happens to him more than once, it has to be more than coincidence. But what he can't see, however, is that perhaps a dog might be more intuitive than him.Wolf!Derek and Laura is alive. Based off of the prompt: I think your dog is my lucky charm.





	Stiles's Lucky Wolf Charm

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out at my tumblr! I post some drabbles here and there. Stilesinwonderland is my username!

Stiles’s walk home from class takes him through the park in the center of town. This is where most people collect, especially during the spring months. Everyone likes to set out blankets and lay until their next class, or play frisbee with their dog. Stiles doesn’t get to join in on those perks, because his trek across the park is taking him straight home and then to work at a nearby cafe/diner. 

 

He waves hastily to the woman he sees every week jogging. It’s refreshing to have constant company; most people jogging are ones that never come back. Stiles sees them again weeks later with a meshed look of anger and disappointment, but they do eventually resurface. 

 

It’s usually the same people, though, walking down the middle path, that he sees every day. But today there’s someone completely new, stuffed in a large coat and shuffling through the snow with a dog at her side. She has long brown hair that looks tied up and she looks particularly angry, ranting to herself as she walks. She’s doing some kind of walk on her tip-toes and is going much slower than Stiles is. The dog is panting and looks happy to be walking, despite his owner’s pain. 

 

He's probably the largest dog Stiles has ever seen, Stiles thinks as he passes by them, before his heart skips a beat as he slips on a large circle of black ice. The ground sneaks up on him and he almost gets a face-full of cold ground, but before he makes contact, the dog is suddenly under him, breaking his fall. He grabs frantically onto the fur in front of him before his mind calms down again. When he realizes what had happened, Stiles falls back onto the ground. He knows he could fully well get a sharp bite to the face for landing on the dog like he had, but doesn't have much time to ponder over it before he's down. 

 

Whatever the case, the dog had saved him from a nasty fall, and it doesn’t look like it’s going to bite him at all. It’s as black as the ice he’d just slipped on and is also calmly watching him. The dog leans in to sniff him, but it just doesn’t, instead almost nuzzling into Stiles’s hand. 

 

“Hey, are you alright?” 

 

Stiles looks up in shock at the woman, who’s pulled her hood down to take a look at him. She looks like she’s trying not to smile at him, but has a hand held out to help him anyways. Stiles takes the hand, slipping on the way up too, which is definitely not good for his ego. “Yeah, thanks for the help,” he pauses when he realizes he doesn’t know her name cause he’s never seen her before. “I was just going to be late for work, and I’m not very coordinated is all.” 

 

“No problem. I’m Laura, this is Derek.” 

 

“Stiles,” he says in response, giving a grateful pat to Derek’s head. “He’s such a good-looking dog.” 

 

Laura hums in approval of his comment. “Lucky he’s such a big dog too.” 

 

Stiles chuckles, checking the time with wide eyes. “I really appreciate you saving my life, but I really do have to go. I’m sorry, I hope to see you around!” The dog’s muzzle taps his hand as he walks swiftly the other direction with a wave. 

 

\--

 

“It’s not legal to own a wolf, right?” Stiles asks at lunch with his best friend Scott and Scott’s friend Isaac. Isaac has been kicking him under the table for the past fifteen minutes, and he’s ready to throw his entire sandwich at Isaac’s face. He only keeps him there because Scott thinks he’s a tragic and lost soul. Stiles thinks Isaac is just an asshole. 

 

Scott chews his hot dog thoughtfully. “I bet not. Why?” 

 

“I saw a dog the other day,”Stiles says with a wave of his hand. “Most beautiful I’ve ever seen; definitely illegal.” 

 

“You sure you’re not making it up?” Isaac asks him. 

 

“I don’t remember asking you, but I’ll consider that next time, Isaac.” Stiles throws a french fry this way and somehow it lands right on Isaac’s plate, and then Isaac just dips it in ketchup (heathen) and eats it with a smug smirk. 

 

Scott checks his phone and says, “Hey, don’t you work at three?” 

 

Stiles blinks. “Shit, I’m late!” He shrugs his backpack onto his shoulders and hastily shouts an apology before racing off. Scott yells back for good luck. 

 

\--

 

He gets fired. Mr. Grayson seems to have had enough of Stiles daydreaming and showing up ten minutes late, tops. So he gets fired in front of three kids sitting at the counter, and has to hand his ID off as they grin behind their hands.

 

Stiles spends twenty minutes sitting on a bench, debating whether he should move straight up to Canada or not, because without a job he definitely can’t afford college anymore. His consensus is that he shouldn’t, but what he  _ should  _ do instead is get some coffee.

 

He sees Laura again at the end of the line, tugging at Derek’s leash. He takes a few steps and then sits down to wait with her. Stiles stops behind her and taps her on the arm. “Hey, Laura is it?” Laura nods and gives a small smile. 

 

“Stiles, right?”

 

“Yeah. I was thinking, to thank you for the lucky save the other day, I was thinking maybe I could show you around town some time?” 

 

She gives him a look-over and her hair falls over her shoulder. “Thanks, but we actually grew up here. We lived in New York until last year.” 

 

Stiles’s eyes go wide. He doesn’t remember ever seeing her around before, but he never really paid that much attention as a kid anyhow. “No kidding, well then never mind. If you ever need anything though, let me know.”

 

She turns back around to face him, a hesitant smile lighting up her face. Her hair is a nice warm auburn in this lighting, and Stiles can tell that her features are sharp and her expressions are precisely calculated. “That’s actually really nice of you.” 

 

Stiles lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug. “I have this guy to thank for not throwing out my back. I hope I didn’t hurt him or anything.” 

 

Laura waves a hand and orders her coffee, a two-shot espresso latte, with extra caramel syrup. Stiles tries not to make a face, and Derek makes a soft huffing noise next to her. “Derek is the sturdiest dog ever, he should be fine.” Derek barks at something, and Laura yanks on the chain once with a tired face. “Stop,” she commads tiredly.  

 

“I guess you’re right,” Stiles chuckles. He goes to pet Derek’s snout, and the dog turns his head away slightly and towards the floor. “He’s not a people person, huh?”

 

Laura smirks. “He seems to think he’s a person, I don’t think he likes anyone petting him.”

 

“Well sorry boy,” Stiles says, reaching his hand back. 

 

“He’s a baby, don’t apologize to him.” Laura tilts her head to the side, taking a sip from her coffee. “But hey, I don’t mean to sound like a stalker or anything-- well, that sounds like a bad start.” Stiles raises his eyebrows. “I saw you out there, sitting on the bench, and you looked pretty beat.”

 

“Oh,” Stiles shuffles his feet, chuckling. “Right. Well--” 

 

Laura’s eyes go wide, and she waves a hand. “I mean it’s not my business, but maybe I could buy your coffee or something? You’re the first person to really welcome us, even if we’re from here. I think it’s sweet.” She smirks at the last part, like Stiles is a small child who’d handed her a flower because he thought it was pretty. 

 

Derek shuffles closer and Stiles absentmindedly strokes a finger along the bridge of his snout before he realizes what he’s doing. But as soon as he reaches away, Derek nudges at his hand until it settles on his skull. “I actually just got fired, so I won’t really say no to the free coffee, but really, you don’t have to.” 

 

“Say no more,” Laura has a small frown on her face as she hands over a ten to the barista. “That sucks though, was it for a reason?” 

 

Stiles scoffs. “I was late two times by more than ten minutes. One was because I got into a car wreck, but who’s paying attention to semantics, right?” 

 

Laura frowns deeply. “Gross. What did you do?” 

 

“I was a server.” He wasn’t a bad one either, because he could always focus on six different tables at once. 

 

Laura’s eyes go wide but her mouth curls in what seems like distaste. “I can see it.”  It sounds like she thinks it’s unfortunate that she can see it, but Stiles doesn’t comment on it. “As luck would have it, Stiles, the reason why we moved back here is because our parents own Wolf’s Tooth. It just so happens that my little brother is a terrible,  _ awful _ server,” she jerks to the side as Derek turns his head sharply, and she rolls her eyes. “ _ Anyways,  _ we could really use a new server, so if you want to come by some time, ask fo me and I’ll set you up with paperwork.” 

 

“You’re kidding,” Stiles’s mouth goes open. It’s not just because this job had popped up out of nowhere, but that Wolf’s Tooth is an  _ expensive _ restaurant, too. He can’t even imagine the tips that would come from a place like that. “That would be great! Thank you.” 

 

“Sure! I’ll see you later then, Stiles.” She shuffles off, leaving behind the change for the ten and jerking Derek out the door. She looks like she starts cursing Derek for being a pain, and then she’s gone. 

 

-

 

They’re such little things, the things that happen to him whenever he happens to catch sight of Derek and Laura. He finds a gift card under Derek’s paw with thirty dollars still left on it right after his shift. The job itself is a godsend, and it pays really well. It’s enough that Stiles can work thirty hours a week and still pay his rent. He’s also crossing the street one time when Derek barks at him, making him barely miss being hit by an actual  _ bus.  _

 

The work, however, is really really hard. When Stiles meets Laura’s mom, she outlines the expectations that she thinks Stiles should follow. He never has to tip out busboys because they make a full wage as well, so Stiles keeps all of his tips. 

 

The kitchen is an extremely hectic mess every day, though. Stiles needs to dodge the cooks and pans over his head just to pick up his orders from the shelf. 

 

One time, he nearly barrels into Peter, the cook, with two plates in his hand on a rush order. The glass slides off his fingers and nearly tumbles to the floor before another hand shoots out, lightning-fast, to grab it. Stiles spins to use his leftover momentum and moves to take the plate and he races out, not looking at the person that had saved his food. 

 

When he has dealt with slightly angry customers for their wait (which wasn’t a real wait at all, but they “expect faster service” on a busy day), he hides behind the wall in the kitchen and sighs in relief. The person who had saved his plate is still, meanwhile, standing there, watching Peter and scanning over the room. He is also wearing a service uniform, but Stiles has never seen him on the floor before.

 

Now that Stiles looks, he thinks the guy is probably the definition of “tall, dark, and handsome.” His eyebrows are sculpted, almost as much as his biceps, but  _ wow,  _ his biceps also. They’re not huge but they’re certainly  _ there.  _ Stiles almost stumbles while he’s standing still just looking at him. He has slightly spiky hair, and he  _ has  _ to be a part of the Hale family. He can see that he looks exactly like Laura, but possibly even hotter.

 

“Hey,” Stiles says, leaning back against the wall. “Thanks for the save.” 

 

The guy blinks at him. “Sure,” is all he says, before shuffling closer. 

 

“I’m Stiles, in case you didn’t know. I haven’t seen you around here before.” 

 

Derek raises his eyebrows. “You have a nametag.” 

 

“Right,” Stiles says, chuckling. There’s a long, quiet pause between them as chaos ensues in the kitchen. 

 

“Derek, huh?” Stiles asks. The guy’s eyebrows lift slightly as if to say  _ “yeah, and?”  _ I’m guessing you named Laura’s dog, huh?” 

 

Derek looks at him and then lowers his eyes. “I was ten,” he says lowly, and Stiles can’t help but laugh. 

 

“Hey, no judgement from me. I named my cat in middle school whiskers. It was a terrible cat.” He looks away into the distance and shudders. 

 

Derek pauses again, his mouth twisting. “That’s a terrible name.”

 

Stiles laughs out loud. “Says the guy who named his dog after himself,” he says, shooting back out onto the floor. He feels Derek watching him as he goes. 

 

\--

 

His conversations with Derek the human are usually short and sweet, no matter how much Stiles tries to engage more. Granted, they are usually at work when he sees him, and every time he sees Laura, Derek the human is never there. 

 

Stiles starts working later shifts, too, because, while he never cared about showing up late to Grayson’s place, he actually enjoys working at Wolf’s Tooth. The midnight shifts are usually full of people who want to grab coffee and work on stuff. Stiles enjoys that the restaurant mixes high-quality service with a classic diner feel. He always has regulars at midnight typing thesis papers and needing a coffee fix. 

 

The one thing he doesn’t like about the night shift is all of the garbage he needs to throw out. Peter likes to hide the bags in the back without actually taking them out, so it’s like a giant game of hide and seek, because Mrs. Hale always makes sure Stiles gets in trouble for it. In hindsight, Peter is kind of an asshole. Sometimes, like tonight, Derek helps him find the bags quietly and then leaves for the night when Stiles does. 

 

It’s nearly two AM when he’s done finding garbage and he takes the four bags out to the back dumpster. He can see the store parking lots nearby that are empty, and some people loitering at a gas station. For a second, he takes some time to breathe in the night air, before tossing the bag. 

 

At the same time that the lid slams down, Stiles feels a tug on his shoulder from a hand and it turns him around to face whoever is behind him. At the same time, a rippling pain tears through his stomach, bringing automatic tears to his eyes. He can’t even scream in shock, but he can see the knife that’s now being pulled out of his stomach with a yank. His skin is burning and his vision is fuzzy, but the garbage bin keeps him upright as he clutches at his abdomen.

 

“Shit,” is what he says instead of anything productive. 

 

The guy who had stabbed him is joined by another guy wearing a cheesy mask barely covering a clearly-distinguishable scar over his eyelid that Stiles can see even with blurry vision. Both of the men seem intent on ignoring him, however, and start running towards the still-open back door to the restaurant. 

 

With ringing ears, Stiles yells “ _ Hey,” _ and tries his best to stand up and stop them. The guys share a look for a millisecond and then someone is tossing him into the can. He thinks it’s eye-scar guy but both guys are backing up with a look of terror on their faces, so it couldn’t have been them. He hears some kind of roaring in his ears, but he’s slowly starting to lose his grip on reality. 

 

The next time he blinks his eyes open, there’s a dark shape in front of him. It’s morphing and Stiles can see it’s a person crouched down. The roaring has turned into a distinct growl now, and in the next second through his sluggish blink, the shape that has to be Derek becomes--

It becomes Derek. Like, dog Derek. As in, he turns into a dog. Right in front of Stiles. And then jumps on the guys, a roar tearing from his throat. Stiles can’t look but he can assume from the sickening noises that the guys are being torn apart. There’s squelching and some kind of gurgle but Stiles is barely conscious as it is. 

 

Stiles is swaying on his feet when the noise finally stops. 

 

Stiles slips one eye open to see Derek, back in his human form. Derek pops up from the ground, with torn-up jeans and no shirt, but Stiles can’t even appreciate it because he’s bleeding and Derek had just turned into a  _ dog.  _ Right there.

 

The first thing that runs through his head is that the Hales had named their restaurant “Wolf Tooth.”

 

“I hate all of you,” he says, and then passes out. 

 

\--

 

He wakes up, not in a hospital, but in some kind of cot, with a terrible headache and his stomach screaming in pain. His stomach is exposed and he can see that someone has stitched his stomach closed, which is like, all kinds of wrong. 

 

He tries moving, but a hand is already holding him down. “They stabbed you but no organs were hit. There’s no internal bleeding, so I figured you didn’t need a hospital.” 

 

Stiles opens his eyes, and wow, Derek’s eyes are really bright green close up. The hand stays pressed firm and when the fingers tighten it makes Stiles feel woozy again and again. He tries looking around and sees he’s in an apartment bed, so it must be Derek’s. 

 

He finally sees Derek’s arm and even in the dark, he can see the dark veins running up his skin, with what looking like black blood streaming through them.  

 

“Jesus,” Stiles gasps, “Your arm--”

 

“It’s to help you,” Derek tells him, keeping him down. “With the pain. It’s a werewolf thing,” he adds with a small grimace.

 

Stiles pauses for a long moment. “Right.” His breathing is starting to increase, but the touch on his arm feels like it’s dragging the panic away too the tighter Derek presses. “So you’re… right.” He leans his head back into the pillow. “Right.”

 

“Sorry,” Derek says, and Stiles snorts. 

 

“I bet you’re real sorry for saving my life.” 

 

“That’s not what I meant.” Stiles opens his eyes and looks him over. Derek’s face has gone a bit ashy and he looks tired. 

 

“Stop that,” he commands, hitting Derek’s hand off. The pain washes over him so quickly, he almost throws up or keels up. Instead, he shuts his eyes and breathes through it. 

 

“We can talk about this later, but I think I’m going to sleep some more first,” Stiles says.

 

“Okay,” Derek says before Stiles’s world goes dark.

 

\--

 

There’s a couple times he wakes up to call his dad, use the bathroom, and eat food, and one of the times, Laura is there when he wakes up. They hastily argue in the other room and Stiles can hear them through the paper-thin walls, but he can’t distinguish their words. 

 

Laura pokes her head in and looks at him, catching him with his eyes open. “Hey, so you know now right?” 

 

Stiles nods once, holding onto the blanket.

 

“Derek isn’t keeping you hostage here, right?” 

 

Stiles wants to say “not at all,” but can’t really talk through his fatigue, so he shakes his head. 

 

“And you’re okay?” 

 

Stiles says, “I’d rather not move,” and she nods her head, shutting the door behind her. As soon as it’s quiet, Stiles is asleep again.

 

\--

 

It’s only one night that he sleeps through, but it feels like weeks. He makes himself get up when he smells coffee, even though it’s ten o’clock. Derek is sitting at a bar in his kitchen when Stiles finds him. His head turns sharply and his eyes run down Stiles’s body. 

 

Stiles is still in his own work-pants but Derek must have changed his shirt for him. Derek himself is not wearing a shirt and is sipping from a cup of black coffee. 

 

Stiles stands there for a moment. “So uh, hi.” 

 

“Hi.” Derek swallows deeply and doesn’t break eye contact. 

 

Stiles feels tenseness in his shoulders. “So uh… that happened.”

 

“You were stabbed. You shouldn’t be standing up.” 

 

At this, Stiles bristles, because well, it feels like he’s being blown off. By someone who had taken care of him for the entire night. And who also happens to be a  _ werewolf.  _ “Granted, I should be at the hospital also, so.” 

 

Derek at least looks down at that. He takes another sip and nods. 

 

“So, why don’t you start explaining. Like how every time I saw you, good things seemed to happen.” 

 

“Maybe it really was just luck.” Stiles’s head starts to throb, and he tries changing his tactic. 

 

“So you, what, walk around as a wolf to--” 

 

“Mostly to avoid people, yes,” Derek finishes. 

 

“But you didn’t avoid me.” Derek doesn’t say anything at that, and Stiles finds a couch to sit on that happens to be facing the bar also, so he doesn’t have to stretch his stomach. Derek looks like a dog that had been caught with a sock in his mouth at Stiles’s words. Stiles scratches at his head. “Hey, did you, with the gift card?” Derek’s mouth twitches slightly, and Stiles shoulders slump. Eventually, he laughs. “That’s stealing, you know.” 

 

“The guy was yelling at his kid anyways,” Derek shrugs. “Stocky businessman, kind of a jerk. He deserved it.” 

 

“Right.” Stiles should care about something about this whole situation. Maybe about how Derek is a werewolf, or how he seemingly stalked Stiles around. But he honestly just doesn’t. “So why did you keep seeing me?” 

 

“The running into you was accidental. Or maybe Laura planned that a little bit.” 

 

“Why would she do that anyways?” 

 

Derek’s eyes pointedly look away, and Stiles gapes at him for a long moment.  _ No way.  _ He knows Derek is by no means shy, but is selective of who he gives his attention to. So if he wanted to talk to Stiles, then that means--

 

 

“You really shouldn’t.” Stiles tries to sit up and sighs when it proves futile. Derek offers a hand to help him but he shakes it off. “Avoid people, I mean. I think you’re pleasant company. The lurking isn’t necessary.” 

 

Derek raises an eyebrow. 

 

“Well,” Stiles says, “You’re kind of good to look at. And I think I’d like to talk to you more.” Shit. He hadn’t meant to say that. He ruffles his own hair. “But I do think I should maybe go home and not worry my dad to death.” 

 

Derek nods and stands up, shaking car keys at him: his, and ones that must be Derek’s. “I’ll take you home.” 

 

“Thank you.” 

 

\--

 

“So you’re not really freaking out about anything?” Derek asks him on the way back to his house. Stiles, before, was trying to find out how he was going to explain the stitches to his dad, but then he looks at Derek. 

 

“About the werewolf thing?” Stiles shrugs. “Weirdly, no.”

 

Derek scoffs. Stiles thinks he could get used to Derek’s little half-smile thing. “That’s a surprise.” 

 

“Not many things freak me out. My friend Scott’s extra toe? That freaks me out. Werewolves? Not outside the realm of possibility.” 

 

Derek sighs and pulls into the driveway, and shuts the engine off. “I don’t want to know.”

 

Stiles smiles at him. “So let’s do something some time then.”

 

“We’ll see.” Derek says, but ends up walking him to his doorway anyways.

 

\--

 

Derek ends up pushing him against the front door and kissing him senseless too. So that’s just great. 

 

 


End file.
